Phantom Caravans
by Red Carlotta Rose
Summary: With the body of a man supposably to be 'Le Fantome' disappears, Jodi is in charge of writing the story of the mysterious burglary. She will soon travel around France, sinking herself deeper into more and more secrets. Will it result in pandemonium?
1. Prologue: Paris, 1890

**Paris, 1890**

There were many at the Opera Garnier on that mild July night. _Faust _was to be performed with the leading soprano known to be the best in all of Europe. Many were quite sure this was true and others were likely to agree. One person there, on the other hand, knew better and would highly disagree. For his own ears had heard something far more extrodinary than any of these youthful figures had ever imagined. His memory was growing dim but he was sure he would never forget a more sweeter sound.

Nadir Khan, formerly known 'The Persian' here at the opera, came through the doors and allowing the many lights of the grand foyer blind him. He stayed in the shadows, walking near the walls as he mazed through the many corridors and rooms of the vast place. In his hands was an ebony box, cleverly sealed in its locked binding. Constantly he kept looking behind him, searching for anyone who was following behind him. Even with the Opera Ghost gone from the opera house for 20 years, you get used to the habit of someone's eyes piercing through your back.

As he came through the section of the archieves, he took careful note of his steps and their volume. He reached a small mahagony door and felt into his pocket for the key for the lock. Despite his immediate leave of his service to the opera, he still had to make quite sure his keys were up to date in case _the ghost_ would ever return. With a creak of its hinges, Nadir entered the room quietly closing the door and taking the key.

A narrow hallway carried him to a small circular room made of stone entirely. The one window straight ahead of him shone the moonlight onto the middle of the room. In the way of the moonlight's path was the wood of a coffin, plainly black and nothing more. He himself knew quite well who this was despite its lack of an identification card or inscription. "So we meet again one last time, my friend." he said solemnly, "Who would have thought that I would speak to you while you actually sleep." He set the box down next to him as he knelt down and opened the top of the coffin. "It is quite finished," he said as he laid the box in the coffin, "Very much finished." Nadir closed the lid and got up.

By the time he reached the grand foyer, the crowds of people were gone, probably in the auditorium by now. He walked the steps of the grand staircase and went down the long hallway of the locked doors of the boxes. Yes, the performance has started with the thunderous voice of Faust himself echoing throughout the opera. He stopped behind one of the doors, the entrance to the famous Box 5. Once he peered in, he wasn't surprised to see the two chairs in the front taken up by a young couple, no doubt newlyweds or newly engaged.

They had forgotten or overcame the shadow behind the opera's great facade. With a content sigh, he turned away and went the other way back: the backstage. People were scrambling about with costumes, makeup, and ballet girls run around like usual. While he was still here, everyone was on the lookout for those devious tricks of the ghost, always looking behind themselves and simply shrugging off an incident. No, the opera was much different then and will be different to his knowledge for running around like dandies.

All the same, he had to wrap around his ancient brain that the opera was definitely setting a spirialing staircase, leading only downwards. Nadir returned to the grand foyer and was ready to take his leave when a soft breeze grazed his arm making him turn back. Just imagination, no worry. One last look behind him to what the opera was now, and back ahead of what it might be. He placed his hand to his aching chest, wincing in slight pain. There wasn't much longer and he could tell. He had been diagonsed with a weakened heart a year ago and managed to condense his daily walks down to a simple stroll around the block. Today, though, was an acception. What needed to be done was done, and that was all that needed to be done to complete his journey.

He walked outside in the warm night, taking out his handkerchief, wiping the sweat from his forehead and removing his astrakhan cap to cool his bald head. Without another word to himself or anything he went on his way, assuring to every one in Paris silently to patiently wait for a triumphant ending.


	2. A Journalist's LIfestyle

Manhattan, NY: a place that stays alive 24/7 with wild parties, constant tourism, and theatre loving performances. For Jodi, the definition of Manhattan is a place of hard core business that only a journalist could understand. On West 14th street Jodi Whittaker, one of the top journalists of the New York Times, came out of the cab that she took from Long Island. With a Panera cappuccino in her hand and her Prada messenger bag over her shoulder, she was ready for handling the top story of the day. As she walked up the hallway, her long chocolate brown hair bounced effortlessly shaping her slender cheekbones.

By the time she got to her office on the 27th floor, she was instantly greeted with a pile of files. Some of them even needed to be turned in by this afternoon's lunch break. Jodi placed her bag to the side, getting to work immediately. Her fingers flew through the keyboard in attempt to finish the paperwork by 2pm at the latest, just before her break. As Jodi got up to get a cup of coffee from the already brewing pot in the corner of the room, she looked up at the calendar.

On there were numerous dates of events, interviews, and reminders on the side. Today's date, February 5th, was written on in bold letters, 'Mayor interview: 2:30pm'. "Great," Jodi said to herself, "another day of all work and no living..." She sipped some of her coffee, sitting back at the desk. "That could definitely make me a dead journalist."

At that moment, Bret Nolcom came into the office smiling as if he got the biggest promotion of his life. With his usual uniform of a newly pressed oxford shirt with rolled sleeves and tie completed by his khaki pants: he always did. "So how life at 'the top and the restless?" he looked at her with a joking twinkle in his eye, "You are the one with the BIG interview today."Jodi simply answered him by smiling, "The last time I checked, yes. And if you'll be so kind as to go back to your own BIG interview."

Bret sat in one of the chair across from her desk, "I have already turned in my story, all we need the next interview from your collection of 'The Best of Jodi Whittaker'." He sipped his coffee and watched Jodi type. She turned to him and tapped her newly manicured nails on her arm, "How about I give you a sneak peek of the nest episode of 'Cops'?" He got up instantly, "Yeah, well you have a good day now Ms. Whittaker. Have a great day!" he skipped off. Jodi shook her head as she got back to 'getting ahead'.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to hours. Soon it was around 2pm and Jodi was already packing up, giving herself mental beatings. There was still at least 15 more pieces of paperwork to be done, and she has been working ever since she came in this morning. Taking the paperwork with her, she locked up her office and went down to the entrance to hail a cab. After awhile or so, she managed to grab one from a flock of cars already heading out to lunch or a Broadway show at the Majestic Theatre.

As she arrived at City Hall, the place was busy with secretaries scurrying everywhere to get federal paperwork filed while security was watching anyone and anything. Jodi showed her press badge and checked into the security desk before heading to the mayor's office. She opened the massive brown oak door before heading inside, watching as the mayor was completing some business with one of his colleagues. After a minute or two, the man left the room and mayor went to his desk.

"Hello, Mr. Thomas. Jodi Whittaker of the Times." she shook his hand firmly. "Hello Ms. Whittaker, heard you were one of the top journalist in the business. Sit down please, I don't have much time but will answer as much as I can." He sat down behind his desk, his hands resting on top of one of his notebooks possibly used for speeches and such. Jodi out a notebook and pen, "Mr. Thomas, many of us have heard that there is a possibly that there is a huge economic leak with much of the construction changes within the NYC area. Some of it reaching up to $500,000 per project. Do you think the raising of taxes is worth it?" Mr. Thomas chuckled and smiled, "Well, there is a possiblity of having taxes go up sky high but once again, like the projects of '07, the construction is being completed swiftly with the best quality. Surely the raising of taxes is worth it. Course, we don't want to have a sink hole in the middle of 1st Ave. now do we?"

Jodi shook her head with a smile, going onto the next question. "What are some of the major projects that are in mind within the area of Manhattan?" "Within the Manhattan area there will be several. One of them will contain redoing the streets within the streets of 14th and Broadway around late March. In July there will be..." His voice started to drift off, her ears not getting the rest of what he said. With a lack of sleep for 4 days on the questions for this interview and descent food to fill her stomach, it was natural for the body to shut down.

Within the time she drifted off to sleep and now, Jodi had no idea what happened or where she was. She looked around and found herself laying on buttery leather of a convertible. As she lifted her body up slowly and got familiar of where she was, she saw that the driver was a possible bodyguard for the mayor. "Ah," the gruff voice came from behind the wheel, "You're up. We're almost to the Times headquarters as we speak." Jodi crossed her arms around her chest, keeping herself warm as she watched the infinite cars of Manhattan go by. Once the car parked in front of the Times, she opened the door and went inside before anyone might question on why she was getting out of a state car.

Jodi came through the elevator doors as if she was in a hurry, escaping to her office and shutting the door behind her. She just humiliated herself in front of one of the most important person of the city. And she was sure that there was no way she would keep her title of best journalist if she was going to simply slip up during her interviews. While she collected her thoughts on what just happened, Bret came in with a much different look he had from this morning: serious and stern. "Heard what happened at the interview. What the heck was going on? Don't tell me Mayor Thomas is THAT boring." Jodi shook her head, "No I just...goofed up." Like she thought something of this magnitude would happen to her. But, like her cousin Marie said, 'Never say never'. That could definitely describe the situation.

"Well, you're wanted in Curry's office. Good luck on that one." he left the room and went to his cubicle. Jodi got up and headed for his office. Curry was the bald and serious Editor-in-Chief, one of those who found a problem and could clear it in less than the problem took to arise. Slowly she opened the door and stepped inside, coming face to face with him instantly. "Ms. Whittaker, sit down." she did so and watched as he took the cigar out of his mouth. "Mayor Thomas called me about 15 minutes ago before you got back here. Told me of a certain...incident during your interview." Jodi looked up at him and nodded, "Yes, sir. All I can remember is my eyes drooping and his voice being drowned out of my earshot."

"What happened, Ms. Whittaker" he got up out of his chair and looked out of the 17th story window, "Is you fell asleep during one of the most important interviews of the month." Mr. Curry said, his voice gaining volume. "Now I know you are one of the Times best journalists and usually the people who gain the title of 'best' does not have those incidents happen." Jodi looked down at her still frozen hands, nodding her head knowingly.

He sighed heavily, thinking things over. When Jodi just came to the Times, he wasn't exactly sure how she would work out. After all she was young, inexperienced, and was freshly out of college. Her first story on the capturing of one of the biggest drug busts in history seemed promising and sent into the papers to test her journalism skills with the people. After a week or so, it was a classic hit. During the last few years he had given her the stories that no one thought would be even read. Somehow, since her first story, she had been a favorite of NYC.

Mr. Curry went back over to his seat, giving her a good look over before placing his hands on the desk. "Ms. Whittaker it is my opinion that you take an leave of absence until further notice." he took out a piece of paper and pen. "I shall assign Rob to your story on the murder in Central Park." Jodi sighed sadly and got up, relieved to at least to have been fired for her humiliation to the company. She opened the door and left his office, feeling as if she was taking the 'walk of shame' until she got to her office.

In less than 5 minutes, Jodi was going to the elevator with her messenger bag over her arm and grim expression on her face. As she went into the crowded elevator, she glanced up to see Bret smiling at her with comfort. With all the happiness with her, she smiled back. Almost the instant she back his smile, he walking down the row of cubicles away from her sight. Jodi sighed as she looked around the elevator and back down to her Versace shoes just as the elevator doors closed.


	3. Reconnecting

Each day and each night seemed to get longer at Jodi's small flat in Long Island. All she could manage to do was roam her house and try to forget about work until Mr. Curry called her back. Her love of slumbering for hours on the couch seemed like a common joy for her, until she grabbed the title of best journalist. Ever since she had gained that title, she managed to cut off her sleeping hours and live by coffee alone. She knew it wouldn't be long until her body would react to her lacking all things humans need.

After Jodi bought her groceries, she desired to be around the comforts of nature. Going outside to drive out to Brookwood Hall Park, she noticed when she was younger, she would play at that park with her usual friends and had been going back there ever since. To think she used to have time enough to be with friends. All of them would grow up to be journalists or writers, just like herself.

Once she arrived, she could already feel humanity reach back to her. With the breeze brushing past her long hair and the sun gently heating the already frozen ground, Jodi could tell it would be a descent day for a walk. As she looked up at the leafless trees and the still green grass underneath it, she could almost remember eating her small but fresh lunch underneath the tree in Spring. Her memories flooded back to her mind every time she saw an aspect of nature. Whether they we're as sweetened honey or a January blizzard, she really didn't mind: memories don't kill.

By the time Jodi got back to her Mercedes, her cheeks were back to their rosy color and the eyes didn't seem as heavy and tired like they usually looked after work. Jodi could even feel the difference in the atmosphere when she turned the knob at the front door. She threw her keys on the oak cabinet nearest to her and closed the door behind her. As she removed her coat and hung it up in the closet, she noticed a number she never heard of on the caller ID: 631-742-6866.

Jodi shook her head, "People always confuse me for an auto mechanic down the block. I've had enough calls of axles being broken on the side of the highway." she told herself as she removed her shoes. She looked up at the clock: 6:30pm. "Great, even in regular life I must rush." she found her flats and grabbed her coat once again, rushing out the door. This time, she was going to see her much older cousin, Shawn Matracal, considered a 'lawyer extrodinaire'. As she parked in front of the 2 story house on High Ridge Rd. Jodi already noticed Shawn waiting for her outside.

Shawn was sitting on the porch, reading the newspaper and stood up once he saw his cousin. "Ah, Jodi. You finally had time in your schedule to see your old cousin." They always liked to joke about the fact that they were 20 years apart from the other, making him 42. Jodi shook her head, "I don't have that much of a schedule so I can do whatever is needed to do now." she embraced him and headed inside. The place was vast, decorated with mini chandeliers in each room and small works of art on the wall.

Once they were inside, Shawn's 21-year old daughter Carrie walked down the stairs. "Hey, Jodi! Never thought you would actually come back." Jodi went over and embraced Carrie, "I'm glad I am still on break before I go back to my classes." Carrie told her, "They last until 7 at night. With Professor Brandwith talking, he could make it last until midnight!" Carrie was taking nursing at NYU, and was inspired to do so after she saw her mother die from a car accident right in front of the house when she was 10. She wanted to do something then, but all she could manage to do was stop the bleeding with a cloth on the porch .

As the night went on, and the conversations changing from Carrie's classes to Shawn's cases, Jodi's phone rang her jacket pocket. She headed into the hallway and looked at the number: 631-742-6866, answering, "Jodi Whittaker speaking." After a moment of a pause, a man's voce came over the line, "Ms. Whittaker, I heard that you are having a leave of absence from your work at the times." His tone suggested he was intelligent and fairly middle aged. "How did you manage to hear about that?" she demanded from him, his answer was eerily calm, "Brian Regeld, of course. I'm one of his colleagues." "What is this about? And what does my work have to do anything with this?" the man continued with his cool tone, "I have a story that is surely going to get you back your title of 'great journalist'. I have refused to give the story to anyone else but the sincere best."

Jodi thought of it for a moment, "What is this story about?" he answered almost immediately, "I will not answer that over the phone, but if you will kindly meet me tomorrow at NYU in the architectural classroom I will give you all the details there." After a pause from Jodi's point she nodded, "Alright. But I do not wish for any strange, untrue stories." At that, the phone went dead. Early as it was, she bid her cousins good bye and headed home.

The next day brought her high hopes and excitement she hasn't felt for almost 4 years. As Jodi went into the main office of NYU, she noticed her friend Brian Regeld signing some papers. Brian was an actually archaeologist who worked at NYU as a part time professor of archaeology. Today he wore his khaki pants with a short sleeved pressed light blue oxford shirt, complete with a bright yellow tie. "Jodi, I thought you were going to be at work by now." he said when he glanced over to meet her eyes. She laughed, "The boss said I need a leave of absence after I goofed on one of the interviews." "Wonderful," he answered, picking up his black suitcase, "What brings you back here?"

Jodi starting walking with him, "I got a call from someone who wanted to meet me here about a story. Said I have to meet him in the architectural classroom." "I'll go with you," he said, as they started walking up the stairs,"my class doesn't start for another hour or so and the room is just a few doors down from mine." As Jodi and Brian walked down the vast hallway, they found that classes were been dismissed with numerous students coming out with books and bookbags. Brian opened one of the doors and led Jodi inside.

She saw the classroom was empty but the overhead lights were on. Not a soul was around. "Maybe he wanted to meet you at night and tell you a ghost story." Brian joked as he looked around. Jodi looked at some of the projects the students did and a textbook opened to page 189. "Ms. Whittaker?" a voice from the other side of the room called, making her jump out of her skin. A middle aged man was standing there with grey pressed pants and a smoky purple sweater, thin face and peppered hair. "Yes, Jodi Whittaker." she went over and shook the man's hand, "Are you the one who called me last night?" he bowed his head.

"Yes, forgive me for calling you so late. I just needed to reach you before anything got worse." Jodi looked at him confused, "Worse? What do you mean?" He opened the door behind him, "Let's go in the back, I'll tell you the whole story there." Brian shurgged his shoulder and let Jodi go first. The room was somewhat like an office complete with blueprints and regular architectural drawings pinned to the walls. "Let me first introduce myself to you, Ms. Whittaker. I am Edgar Dagnter and I keep the National Archives in Paris running. That is the main reason I wanted you here, Ms. Whittaker." "What does the National Archives have to do with the story?" she asked.

"Everything!" he sat down in his chair, looking up at them with his glasses. "There was a robbery that took place there about 2 weeks ago. A coffin containing a body of valuable importance to Paris culture itself." Brian laughed, "You called Ms. Whittaker here, who so happens to be one of the best journalists at the Times, to do a story on a regular body stolen thousands of miles away?" Edgar narrowed his eyes at Brian, "That body is no ordinary man, Mr. Regeld." he turned to Jodi. "Ms. Whittaker, I am sure you are aware of one of the most famous horror stories, 'The Phantom of the Opera'?" "Yes," she nodded, "I believe it was one of the most famous musicals of the world as well."

Mr. Dagnter looked down at his hands, "That myth, that infamous story of the man behind the mask is supposedly true. The body that was stolen is thought to be the remains of 'Le Fantome' himself." Jodi's eyes went wide, "How...how is that possible?? He is only a pure story book character to frighten and mystify people." Edgar leaned back in chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "The body was found many years ago in an enclosed space, so apparently he starved to death. His face appeared to already be decomposed or to be his actual face. That was my main job at the archives, keep that body preserved."

Jodi shook her head slowly, "You want me to fly over to Paris to do a story that will most likely get me thrown into a psychiatric ward?" "That is why I wanted the best and only the best," he answered, "to show that I am not crazy and that I am sincere about my words." Jodi got up and started to leave the room, "I don't know Mr. Dagnter, I am sure I will be called into duty in the next couple of days and won't have time to fly to Paris." "Then do it for the sake of bringing the robbers to justice, if anything." he pleaded, "With the publicity of your story it will have everyone search for the body and bring it back in less time."

"The whole trip will be on my bill and whomever else you want to come with you. Please, Ms. Whittaker." he sighed sadly, in desperation "That body is important to the Opera Garnier and its mysterious history." Jodi turned around and exhaled deeply. "Yes, alright. I'll do it. I need a descent vacation anyway." Edgar smiled, "Good, and thank you." he took a piece of paper from his desk and wrote something on it. He gave it to Jodi, "All the information is on here of the plane departure. Good day to you Ms. Whittaker, Mr. Regeld." he bowed and went back to work.

Once Brian and Jodi went into Brian's classroom down the hall from Mr. Dagnter, Jodi immediately went for a pen and some paper. "What are you doing?" Brian asked her as he watched her scribbling on a piece of paper. "You..." Jodi said as she ripped the paper from the pad, "are coming with me." She placed the paper in Brian's hand and watched his expression change, "Me? Why me? I have no experience in the journalist field." "Yes but you could also use a vacation. Besides, an archaeologist can be handy in the least expected moments." she walked out of the classroom and left NYU.

Jodi looked down at the paper Edgar gave her, reading it over and over:**Dagnter 9:30 2/16. **With the way it sounded, he had his own private jet. Well, at least it wasn't in a crowded coach section with strange people around you. As she climbed into bed that night, she continued to replay the words in her mind. Dagnter 9:30 2/16, Dagnter 9:30 2/16...With the 16th coming up in 2 days from now, she was sure to have a jolly good time.


	4. Silence

It was almost noon as Jodi sipped her small glass of champagne and looked out the window. Clouds. Everything and anything was airless, nothing was held down by gravity. She and her companions Bret, Brian, Thomas, and Carrie were aboard Dagtner's small private jet, _Le Sommiel _wishing their New Yorkian worries away_. "_Perhaps the one who stole it will hold it for a ransom." Bret said after a sip of his wine, "I mean if the corpse is so famous, there is no way someone would simply dump the body on the pavement." Brian glanced over at Bret, "Most people still those bodies for money, and I do not mean a ransom. Usually they sell them off if anything."

Carrie was finishing off some homework, setting aside a textbook with her father not too far from her sight. He was sitting on one of the other chairs, drinking small shots of 'scotch on the rocks'. His expression was serious: bored, grim and tired. Tired. The one thing that everyone could relate to now. Ever since this morning, everyone was in a hectic rush to find the terminal without much of luck. Before they even completed their 2nd round of scanning everywhere, Thomas suggested on calling Dagnter himself. After that, they were seeing Dagnters everywhere they turned. Bret and Brian said that he was over at the snack bar while Thomas and Jodi said he was at one of the terminals. But, in the end, it was Dagnter himself who found them first, completely tired and exhausted from roaming around the whole JFK airport 4 times.

As Dagnter finished his wine, he faced Bret and Brian. "I am sure you are all aware of the Phantom story. The sweet soprano being kidnapped from the opera house and her lover coming to her rescue, so on and so forth." Brian nodded, "Its all too familiar. The famous Broadway show tells the story almost every night." Dagnter set his glass down and rubbed his hands together, "I have seen this musical myself, and believe me Mr. Regeld it only tells a certain section of this story while some things are left out. Just like the first words of the book 'The Opera Ghost really existed in flesh and blood.'" Jodi's ears pricked up, "Story? Leroux's story?" He nodded, "That gives many details on what happened, all thanks to his investigation."

She knew she had to get her hands on this book. "But how could be so sure those are the real details of what happened? The book itself is labeled 'fiction'." Bret asked. Dagnter leaned forward, "Like I said 'The Opera Ghost really existed in flesh and blood.'" Carrie looked up from her notebook, "So what you are saying is that since you know he existed, you know to trust the details." He bowed his head in agreement, "Exactly." "And just who do you think stole this corpse?" Thomas asked him. Dagnter shook his head, "I don't know. There is no one in competition with me or wishing to blackmail me so practically my life is an open book. Like Mr. Regeld said, most likely someone who wishes to get a rich reward for the body that is the center of an infamous story."

Soon a bump or two made them look out the windows. "Ah, Paris." Dagnter said with a smile. He went to the jet door with his suitcase while everyone else followed him. Outside the weather was different than the cold February days of New York. Right now, it was somewhat warm with a blast of sunshine raining down on the group. Waiting for them was a mini van ready to take them to their hotel. Once they turned down the last street to get to their destination, they came face to face with the Opera Garnier in the distance. "It's a surprise this ghost did not die from confusion." Jodi said with slightly widened eyes.

Apollo's lyre shone against the sunrays of the sky, glittering like a star. Just when it seemed as though they were heading for the opera, they stopped maybe a block away from the great landmark. With the help of the bellhop, they took their things up to their rooms. Everyone's room was the same, a simple bed in the middle of the room with a large window on the next wall. Jodi placed her clothes into the drawers and suitcase in the closet before heading downstairs to rejoin the others.

Everyone was planning to have dinner before they retired to their beds, and was lucky enough to have a restaurant across the street. The group was seated at a table near a few stained-glassed windows overlooking the entrance to their hotel. Jodi was the first one to jump to a conversation, "So are there any other details besides the ones we know about this 'robbery'?" she asked, sipping her coke. Dagnter leaned back and crossed his arms, "I will get into great depth tomorrow when we go to the Opera the first time. This is one story we will need visuals for." Everyone looked at each other as if the answer was on their neighbor's faces. Why the desperate need for visuals? They were sure if he could tell them details of this 'grave robbery'; they would all understand it.

Most of the time, people were silent and no conversation was exchanged. It was when they returned to their to rooms that they felt the need to understand why no one has said a word. Jodi especially was thinking this, lying up in her bed. Even while it was almost midnight, she couldn't get any sleep. As she came face to face with the moon's rays, she could only explained the bizarre silence as an eerie desire. Many words and questions were on their tongues, yes, but no one dared to ask or comment on Dagnter's last quote. All there was left was to gather clues in the morning.


	5. Notes

Much like yesterday, the sun shone upon the windows with its heavy beam awaking everyone's eyes.With a few hours of sleep on Jodi's belt, this is definitely something that did not agree with her: early mornings. She checked the clock on the side table: 8am. Without much as a cup of coffee to set her on her feet, she had a hard time trying to get downstairs to meet with her companions. It was clear that she was not the only one with a despising passion for lack of sleep. Thomas was half-asleep on the couch while Bret was trying to rub open his eyes. Brian and Carrie seemed somewhat immune to this effect, First ones to get six cups of coffee probably.

Silence seemed to befall its spell over everyone once again. No word was spoken or exchanged as they slowly awoke from their sleeping mode, coffee being their fuel. "Where is this Dagnter?" Brian asked out loud, "He said he was to be here by 8am sharp." Even on that outburst, no one spoke only stared. Jodi went over to the window and peered out, "He's here." she announced. His minivan was just parking across the entrance to the hotel, getting out and walking inside. Everyone's energy seemed to be evident at this point, showing they indeed were not corpses.

By the time everyone got into the minivan, the energy was at its boosted level. Jodi was taking out her notebook and pen, making notes while Bret was ready with the camera he brought along. As the minivan closed in on the opera house, Jodi could still see the glittering lyre on top, dazzling as ever. A perfect topping for the cake. The minivan stopped at the entrance to the opera house, "The front entrance is unlocked as well as most of the doors," Dagnter said as he got out and closed the door. Carrie and Jodi looked up at the magnificent façade, admiring its splendor.

"Will most likely go to the place where the robbery was taken place." Jodi said finally, taking her eyes off the site and heading inside, everyone else following her. The interior was definitely much brighter and much more spectacular than the front. Its chandeliers glittered on the marble floor, with the staircase definitely giving off a hint of its grandeur. "If you'll follow me, I will show you the room." Dagnter lead the way through many rooms and doors. Finally he stopped at a mahogany door, taking out a key from his pocket and unlocking it.

The long hallway only showed a few lamps on the walls leading to a room with no door and one window, shining on a coffin lid completely open. No sign of a body or inscription was seen. Bret angled himself and snapped a few pictures on the coffin. "Was there any evidence found near or around the coffin?" Jodi asked Dagnter. "No nothing, not even a crumb, was found. There is no sign of breaking and entering, nothing was broken, nor was anything out of place besides the corpse been gone."

"How did you even know to check the coffin when there was no sign of a robbery?" Jodi asked while writing down a few things that he had told her before. "It is daily procedure that we check everything when we open the Opera house. My assistant was the only one here at the time and went to open the doors. When he came in here and opened the lid, there was nothing there." While all of this was going on, Thomas and Carrie were in the other room, admiring some of the finer things on display. Brian was examining the coffin, careful not to touch anything for federal reasons.

"What about the rest of the opera house?" Bret asked as he reloaded his camera, "Did you check if anything was stolen in the prop room, costumes perhaps?" Dagnter shook his head, "The only way to get into those areas is by unlocking the door by key. The staff, janitors, my assistant and I are the only ones with the key. If anything was stolen from there, I did not notice it or it was done by pure magic." Jodi nodded, "Besides, why would they want a prop or costume? This place is filled with antiques and the stage itself is barely used anymore." Brian looked up, "Like the corpse, money. Since some of those costumes are over 50 years old, it could definitely rank up a price tag if sold to a collector."

"Well if this robber comes clean I shall certainly file charges," Dagnter said seriously, "That corpse is worth a lot more to the opera house than money. Doubt they got too far though. I filed a police report about a couple days ago prior to the robbery. Said there have been some pricey heists going on throughout the area for the passed couple of weeks. I'm just one of the most expensive ones." Jodi looked over at Bret, assuring that he was finished. "Well, thank you Mr. Dagnter." She said with a smile. "Hopefully they find it soon."

Brian stood and sighed, "The only thing I can say is this coffin is indefinitely old but sturdy." Dagnter nodded, "Come, I shall give you a tour throughout the place. Wouldn't be fair to be all work and no play." The group chuckled and rejoined Thomas and Carrie, Brian lacking behind. Dagnter showed them the whole place from Box 5 to the stage and from the stage to the complete backstage area. Jodi was still wondering why Brian kept his pace far back from everybody else, keeping up his own time.

Once they were going to back to the entrance, she went over to Brian and questioned him. "Why are you lagging back? You have been doing it this whole time." Brian whispered to her, "Shh. I will tell once we get there." She looked at him with confusion but waited patiently. As the rest of the group was heading towards the front door, Brian pulled her to the side and rushed her through a doorway out of Dagnter's sight. "Brian! What the hell!!?" He silenced her, "Shh! I didn't want Dagnter to know about it." She shook her head, "About what?"

"Come on!" he took off in a run with Jodi following him. "I did see something, but I did not want Dagnter to get excited. You know how older people are." He led her to the circular room with the coffin, lifting it up and placing it on the floor. "There are marks on this lid." He pointed out the indentations with Jodi looking down closer. "They're musical notes," she said quietly, "Carved into the wood." Brian looked over at her, "It sounds like he was buried alive." Jodi shook her head, "I doubt it. They always made sure they were dead before placing them in a coffin."

"So now you think he lived in here?" Brian asked sarcastically. "No, but I am saying that probably didn't bury him alive." She snapped at him. "Well he looked like a corpse while he was alive so it would have been easy to make that mistake." Jodi sighed, "Then why are they notes instead of real words? Unless he was composing while he was dying." Brian shook his head, "They would be the last thing on someone's mind while they were dying." She placed her hand over her eyes, "Maybe it was a piece he desperately wanted to be complete." "Enough maybes!" he exclaimed in a loud whisper. "Whatever this is, its not normal behavior of dead men."

"What are we suppose to do about it, Brian?" she asked. He looked down at the coffin lid as if the answer was written there. "Let us keep coming back, search for more clues until we have to return to New York. I am anxious to know why there are notes on this coffin." Jodi got up, "I am a reporter, not a detective." She started to head back, but Brian grabbed her wrist gently, "You might never know when you might need an archaeologist." He smiled. Jodi smirked jokingly as they both walked out.

"I doubt those carving have anything to do with the investigation." She said as she took out her wallet. "Would be an interesting thing to learn about nonetheless," he said placing his hands in his pockets, "What are you doing?" Jodi looked up at him, "Going to do some book shopping, maybe Dagnter is right. The book might give us some details." She held up her wallet, "Care to join me?" Brian took out his, "Certainly, _madame_." They clinked wallets as they headed out the front door.


	6. Rouen

A few nights and a few chapters into the book later, Jodi was in her hotel room reading the rest of chapter 4: 'Box Five'. It was then that her cell phone went off on her nightstand, making her putting down her book and hastily picking up the phone. "Hello?" Brian's voice filled her ear, "Dagnter just called me, said they found a body up in Northern France." Jodi got out of her bed, "Why couldn't you just come down to my room?" she asked him. "I'm downstairs with Bret, waiting for you to come down." Now? This is one of the times that she wished she had appointment charts instead of constant calls. "Fine." She hung up.

30 minutes later, they were on the road up to Rouen located about 70 miles northwest of Paris. They drove off the main road onto a side road leading into the forest. "They said a few hunters were in the area and found the body in the brush." Dagnter said as he turned a corner and parked it just before the ledge of a cliff. "Also fits the description of the corpse." Everyone got out and went down the steep slope down to the bank side where a few policemen were, inspecting the body and interrogating the hunters in the far left.

One of the policemen moved off to the side, giving Dagnter and Jodi a better view of where the body was. It was sealed in a body bag but it clear that they moved it out of the brush in the far right of where they stood. Dagnter went over to the police, wanting them to open the bag. They bent down and unzipped it, with Dagnter looking down to examine it. He nodded and with that the policeman zipped up the bag, telling the others to put it in a truck nearby.

Dagnter talked to one of the other men for a moment, then lead him over to Jodi and Bret. "Ms. Whittaker, this is M. Bognarc, chief of police." The older policeman tipped his hat and gave her a small smile. "These are the ones who are taking care of this story." Dagnter added before M. Bognarc continued in a thick French accent but was understandable, "Bonjour madam, monsieur. Right now, we are interrogating the witnesses and will give you full details of the findings when they are finished questioning them."

"Who exactly is in charge of this investigation?" Jodi asked him taking out her notebook and writing down the Chief's name. "I am. Including some of the other heists that are going on around the Paris area. I am sure M. Dagnter has given you details about these pricey heists on other valuables such as cash, jewelry, and other objects of high value." Bret sat down on a rock nearby, listening to question after question Jodi gave and M. Bognarc answered.

While he was taking some nature photographs of the brush and the scenery, he noticed something else in the bushes. Without giving a mind to it, he reached down and picked it up. It was a wooden box, half buried under the dirt. Inside was a few bottles labelled in a language he could not read. He immiediately put the box in his bag and headed to the minivan.

"Thank you, M. Bognarc." Jodi said with a smile, "We'll keep in touch." Brian followed her back to the minivan while Dagnter stayed behind to talk to the officer. "Do you think the body is Le Fantome's?" Brian asked her. Jodi sighed, "If I knew, I would tell you." The body was then moved to the back of the minivan, still in the body bag. Dagnter got into the driver's seat and drove off with the police leading the way.

"Finally this can be put to rest." Dagnter said as he pulled out of the forest and onto the main road. "Yes but you still don't know who your burglar is."Brian said from the back seat. "The police will figure it out soon enough. They are known for their quick wit." Jodi glanced behind her, "Are you sure this is the body?" Dagnter nodded his head, "Quite sure. The description matches it perfectly." In no time at all, they were back in Paris and pulling into the back of the opera.

With the body inside and in place, they closed the lid on the corpse. "Hopefully these are the last of 'Le Fantome's' tricks." Dagnter said looking down at the closed coffin. He left the room along with the janiotrs that helped move the body back into the opera. Jodi, Brian, and Bret followed soon after hailing a taxi back to their hotel. Once they were inside, Bret getured them over to the couch. "I found something in Rouen that is definitely something you don't find everyday."

He pulled out the box and handed it to Brian and Jodi. Inside they saw the jars and labels of different languages. "The box is definitely old, rotted." Brian said examining it. "Where did you find it?" she asked Bret. "In the brush, about where the body was found. Strange item to be found in the woods, eh?" Brian chuckled, "Yeah, really." Just when Jodi was about to close it, she saw scratching in the wood.

"More musical notes." she brushed her hand over it.

Bret came over and looked over Jodi's shoulder while Brian's expression was puzzling. "How can there notes in the coffin and in the box, at least 70 miles from each other?" Jodi shook her head, "Maybe the bottles will tell us something, or at least where they are from." "But how are we going to translate these things? We don't even know if they are in French or not." Bret said touching one of the labels.

"Thomas knows a few languages," Jodi said as she rushed up the stairs with the box. "I am sure he could tell us." Bret and Brian followed close behind her while she went into Thomas's room. "Do you have any idea what language these could be in?" she handed the box to her cousin and looked at them with narrow eyes. He seemed to be staring more at the bottle than the label, then after looking at the last bottle he put them back in the box. "French. Handwriting indicates an uneducated or slightly educated person. Why? Where did you find these?"

"Near a bank in Rouen," Bret confessed, "That is where the body was found." Brian showed Thomas the notes on the lid, "We found musical notes on both the lid of the coffin and the box and we were thinking..." Thomas looked at him, "And why didn't you tell M. Dagnter?" Brian hesistated for a moment and answered, "I did not want him to get worked up about it." Thomas's tone was getting harsh,"Then maybe I shall for I am his lawyer and will probably have you arrested for tampering with evidence."


	7. Rouen Again

Jodi and Brian both looked at him in slight surprise. "Why did you tell me at least?" Thomas looked at her, "You would have kept everything from me and with me being also your cousin, I would feel like an outsider. But no, I will not tell Dagnter." Brian looked at him puzzled, "But I thought as his lawyer…"

"I still don't have to tell every detail to him. I have known the man for 7 years ever since he hired me to go against this man who was wrongfully suing him."

Jodi smiled and kissed his cheek, "Thank you, you have no idea." "Please save it, dear cousin. I am sure there will be more times when you are in this situation." Bret looked down at the box and back at Brian, "You said that you also found musical notes on the lid of the coffin. Were they the same as these?" Brian shook his head, "Doubt it, there were far too many on the lid to really know for sure anyway." Jodi closed the lid, "We're going to the opera house anyway to look for more answers, once most of the tourists are gone." Thomas smirked brightly, "Really, and when exactly will that be?" she smiled but answered seriously, "7pm sharp."

That is exactly what they did. Right at 7pm, they entered the front doors of the opera and went directly to the circular room. When they entered into the hallway, Jodi stopped Brian behind her from going anything further. "What is it?" "Someone is in there already." Jodi answered him. "Is it Dagnter?" he asked looking over her shoulder. "Doubt it. He is completely cloaked." The figure in the small room was covered head to foot in a cloak with the hood over his face. After a brief moment of dead silence, the figure left the room and came through the hallway, brushing past the hidden forms of Jodi and Brian.

"Who the hell could that be? Surely not a staff member or janitor." Brian commented as he watched the stranger leave. Jodi shook her head and went into the room. They found a white lily and rose over his coffin. "It seems he was paying respects to the forgotten ghost." Brian picked it up and saw the stems intertwined, "Symbolism perhaps?" She flipped over the lid and gestured for him to place the flowers off to the side. "Hopefully we can recognize some of these notes from the box Bret found." They examined the lid for 10 minutes, coming up with a blank.

"None of these match." Brian got up and looked around the room, "This room must have some other clue to these notes but…. what else could a room made of concrete could handle?" He asked himself. After a moment of looking around, he came back to his senses, helping Jodi replace the lid. "We shall have to come back tomorrow and uncrack this puzzle." Jodi wiped off her jeans and left the room behind Brian. Suddenly, Bret popped in front of them startling them. "I thought you might need a rubbing." Brian turned around to face him. "Rubbing?"

"Maybe we can make a link to see if its from the same person." Jodi's eyes lit up. "Bret, you're a genius!!" she took the rubbing from Bret and went back into the room, slowly propping the lid down. "What good will that do? We won't know whose it is." Brian said helplessly. "Maybe, but…" Jodi looked for a usable engraving, "but it could get a hint on who did it." She placed the rubbing next to a few of the notes on the lid. Surprisingly, they matched handwriting wise but not note wise. Brian looked at it quite astonished, "But how could…" Brian started to asked. ""Some things are sometimes left confusing."

"Well we are working on why we just know most likely who." Jodi got up and placed the lid back on the coffin. With the help of Brian, they placed it back on the coffin. "I suggest you take us up to where you found that box Bret, and maybe we could find some other clues to these musical notes." Brian patted her back, "Not now though, the first thing tomorrow though." The group left the room and went back to the hotel. All of them were still thinking about the connection of the box and coffin and that one question: what and why?

Early the next morning, Brian had rented a car for them to get to Rouen. Without waking Thomas and Carrie, Bret and Jodi quickly and quietly rushed down the hallway and got into the car. Just before dawn, they were just turning into the side road leading through the forest. "Alright Bret," Jodi said looking around the forest, "Tell us where you found this box." After a ways down, Bret gestured them to stop the car.

They rushed down to the bank and looked through the brush. "Nothing." They both exclaimed. "What is the nearest town from here?" Brian shook his head, "I read up somewhere about a church named Boscherville but I can't…." Jodi went up the steep slope, "Then that is where we shall be. " Bret and Brian followed after her, "Why? That town might not hold any answers." Bret called after her.

"And it might, come on!" Brian sighed and joined Jodi up front while Bret hopped into the back. They drove to Boscherville and found nothing there. They then tried the town nearest to the church and came up with nothing. The group leaned up against the car in exhaustion, "We've tried everything. It seems hopeless to find anything else." Brian said, rubbing his temples. "I am sure no one wanted to let anyone know about this." Jodi shook her head, "There is got to be something that we overlooked, something right in front of us." Brian came off the car and sighed, "Well, let's get going. We can pick up breakfast along the way."

Just as Jodi was going to get into the car, she noticed a sign in the vacant lot behind them. "I can't read it, but I am sure Thomas is up." She took out her cell phone and called him. Bret and Brian leaned up against the car as they waited. "Thomas? Are you fully awake? Your translation talents are needed again…." She told him what the sign said and spelled it out for him to write it down. After a few minutes or so, Jodi hung up and beamed a great smile. "Unholy ground."

"And THAT is suppose to make you happy?" Bret asked astonished. Jodi shook her head, "No, when we were in Boscherville the priest told us that a deformed man lived around here but would not specific where. This must be it." She exclaimed excitingly. Brian took out the shovels and went over to the ground with Jodi and Bret taking them hastily. "Watch for anyone awaking." She said, bend down and starting to dig while Bret dug in another section. After a few cans and rubbish they found, Jodi hit up something unusual.

With the help of Bret, they dug out a rotten binder, the pages inside complete with chicken scratch handwriting but the sketches of a pure genius. They were architectural drawings of every kind. Arches, columns, pillars, buildings, you name it and inside the cover of the binder was more musical notes. Bret took out the rubbing and placed it next to the notes. "Almost as if the notes are…. maturing." He was right. The ones on the rubbing were very identical to the ones on the binder, but the one on the binder was more childlike and less educated.

"This must have been his home." Jodi looked at the ground in pure amazement. "He lived here! The beginning of it all!" They stepped away from the dug up hole, silence. Jodi looked down at the binder and closed it. "We should be going, like Brian said… we can breakfast along the way." They both got up and got into the car. Brian took one look at the expressions on their faces and the binder Jodi was holding, knowing to hold his tongue as he drove them away.


	8. Rahaja Khan

Hours after they arrived from Rouen, Jodi immediately went back to the book. It was at 6 that she had to make her stopping point at chapter 14: The singular attitude of a safety pin. What felt like a minute was 5 minutes and she was out the door to the opera house. This time, they brought the two rubbings from the box and the binder, curious to see if any of it matches the lid on the coffin. Again, they came up with a blank. Brian shook his head, "There has to be something that is flying over our heads!" he said angrily, pounding his fists against the wall. "Damn it, why can't ONE clue pop out in front of us." Jodi was behind him, trying to calm him down.

"I am sure what you are saying is true, and we will figure this out." She said comfortingly. Brian sighed, rubbing his head and messing up his brunette hair. "I'm sorry… this just frustrates me. We have been here over 7 times in the past 7 days and still we cannot find anything to help with notes." As Brian sat down on the rim of the coffin, he looked down the hallway, seeing the cloaked figure watch them in the doorway.

"Hey!" the figure started to run, and at that Brian darted after him at incredible speed. "Hey!!" Jodi followed him as fast she could, just catching him capturing the cloaked figure.

The cloaked figure tried to fight back with a dagger that seemed to come out of nowhere. Jodi raced over to the two of them. She took the dagger out of his hands and had Brian take his hands off the stranger, getting onto this own to feet. "Who the hell are you? Why were watching us?" he asked angrily. The stranger removed his hood from his face, revealing a face with black hair and matching mustache his skin slightly tanned, looking in his late 20s or 30s. "If you really wish to know: I am Rahaja Khan." Brian's breathing slowed and calmed down.

Jodi approached him with him darting back in defense. "Why were you watching us?" she asked calmly. Rahaja looked at her finally, his eyes intense. "I had to. He is my responsibility." Jodi looked at him confused, "Dagnter hired you as a bodyguard?" The man shook his head, "No, it runs in my family. I was appointed to make sure he was safely protected." "I don't understand." Jodi confessed. Rahaja sighed in aggrivation.

"Years ago, one of my ancestors watched this man like a hawk. He was with him wherever he went, in shadow and in his box. Ever since, my ancestor's family would appoint someone to protect this man and make sure he would have his eternal rest that he needed." He explained, fixing the astrakhan cap on his head. Brian's eyes lit up, "Nadir!" he pointed at Rahaja. The man looked at Brian in puzzlement, "I beg your pardon, monsieur?" Brian's eyes still glittered in excitement, "Khan, Nadir Khan. Is he your ancestor?"

Rahaja thought for a moment and nodded, "Yes. In fact he is my great-great grand uncle." Brian looked up at Jodi in amazement, "The book, Dagnter was right the whole time. He existed in flesh and blood and there is living proof!" he pointed to Rahaja. Jodi looked down at Rahaja, and it suddenly hit her. "Of course he existed in the living flesh, didn't you read the novel?" Rahaja asked them. "Everyone in Paris has read it." Jodi sat down and then remember the flowers, "What about the flowers you left on the coffin?"

Rahaja pulled out the same entwined flowers from his cloak. "You mean these? Lilies are or pureness and the rose is love, my great-great grand uncle had a brotherly love for him since he saved his life from the Mazaderan royalties. I always thought that it could mean to pray for love for him since he found none in his life." Jodi noticed the way the man was holding the flowers, "You feel sorry for him, don't you?" "Of course I do, like any other human being!" Rahaja exclaimed.

Brian sighed in exhaustion, "We should return home, there is a lot we have hit upon today anyway." Just when Jodi and Brian were walking away, Rahaja touched Brian's back. "Monsieur, please put this on his grave when you leave. He needs all the pity in the world." Brian took the flowers from the man. "Alright, Goodnight, M. Khan." At that, the stranger left in the darkness. Once Jodi and Brian placed the lid back on the coffin, he placed the flowers on top of the lid. "You know, he is right." Jodi said, looking down at the lid. Brian nodded, "Yeah. Come on, we should go before Dagnter starts to wonder what we are doing."

Jodi lead the way out while Brian followed close behind her.


	9. Interference

As the both of them read on, they found out more about this ghost than anything else. On the other hand, as they continued to search the circular room they were finding less and less. They thought that maybe the musical notes could hold something, but nothing was found there either. During the next couple of days, Jodi and Brian drove out to Rouen to see if they could find anything else either in the forest or in that 'unholy' vacant lot. Still found nothing.

On the early morning of March 1st, they were stumped. "What else is there to see besides the things we've got now?" Brian asked, looking at the items they collected spread out on Jodi's bed. Jodi shook her head, "Like you keep saying, there has to be a clue right underneath our noses. But where is the question." Brian picked up his copy of the book then put it down angrily. "We have gone over where we've both stopped at and looked over the evidence, and STILL nothing!!"

Jodi's head went up, "What about Rahaja? He might have something. After all he is linked to Nadir relation wise." Brian shrugged, "It is worth a try. Hopefully he will be there tonight." Jodi put the evidence off to the side. "He will be, he has been doing this ever since day 1." When they arrived at the opera house, Rahaja was there right on schedule. They waited for him in the shadows, going up to him quickly.

"Rahaja," he turned around, "Oh, do you want to report me now?" Jodi shook her head, "Absolutely not. You are a human being and can do this if you wish." Brian took out the binder and showed him the musical notes, "Do you know anything about this?" Rahaja shook his head, "Just a bunch of musical notes. Nothing special." He then took out the rubbings of the coffin and showed it to him. "What about these?" Rahaja shook his head, "Again, musical notes. Why do you ask?"

"We found these in certain items like a binder, a box and the coffin in the room." Rahaja's eyes widened as if in complete shock. At last he grabbed the rubbings and tore them to shreds angrily, grabbing Brian's shirt. "Never go into affairs that are not yours to begin with!!" he hissed. With that he sent Brian banging his head on the hard wall behind him, and ran off. Jodi went over to Brian, "Are you alright?" she pulled him to his feet feeling his neck.

"Just a bruise, that's all." He rubbed his neck a bit looked at the entrance to the opera. "He definitely knows something he doesn't want to tell us." Jodi sighed, "Then there is no other way but to go to him ourselves." Brian went over to the visitor registry, looking down at the names. "Rahaja Khan is a definite frequent visitor with those flowers." Jodi looked down at the list of names, "Let us have Dagnter tell us about him." "And give our small investigation away?" he asked harshly. "Not if I ask him and tell him he is a friend of ours and we wish to see him."

Brian and Jodi went up to Dagnter's office, the door already open. Dagnter looked up from his papers and smiled, "Well, what an unexpected surprise. What can I do for you Ms. Whittaker?" "We have a friend we desperately want to see but we have no way to getting to him. Maybe you could tell us where he might be." "Alright," he answered, "What is this 'friend's' name?" "Rahaja Khan" Dagnter froze for a moment then resumed. "Yes, I know him. I believe he is a patron to the opera." He went over to the file cabinets, taking out a file folder.

Jodi and Brian went immediately down to find an address and instead found 'confidential' on the line. "Confidential? Why is that?" Brian asked Dagnter. He looked down at the file and sighed. "I am not sure why. These are the only records I have of him on file. Cannot help you anymore." Jodi looked down at a seal on the bottom and then knew exactly why. "Thank you M. Dagnter." She handed the folder back to him.

Once they were out of the room, Jodi pulled Brian to the side. "There is no way we will get to speak to Rahaja at his current residence." "Why? Surely we can find more records." "Maybe but that still won't help us. On the bottom of the papers was the government's seal. He is under government protection." "But why? He is not a staff member of the government." Brian said confused. "We cannot get to him outside this opera. We shall have to wait till tomorrow to see him."

But once they turned on the television the next morning, Jodi saw someone on there being taken away by police. "The grand heist in Paris is over. The man believed to rob 20 people in the Paris area and even the famous Opera Garnier, was captured today by Chief Bognarc. This man seen here." The photo showed Rahaja, "Is in custody and has a bond of 500,000 francs." Jodi rushed out of the room to where Brian and Bret were to look at the evidence closer. "Rahaja has been arrested!" "What?!" Brian stood up abruptively. "In custody for suspected of being the one who has been doing these heists round Paris, including the one at the opera house."

Brian had his head in his hands, aggravated. "There is nothing else we can do then. He was the supposedly to crack this musical note business and ends up in a jailhouse!" Jodi still thought there was hope, "We can still get to him, and ask him…" Brian gripped her shoulders, "Enough! There is nothing left to do but let this be one thing he takes to the grave. That _ghost_ too." Jodi's shoulder slouched and sighed. "You're right. We can tell Dagnter that we can get the next ticket to New York. I'm sure Mr. Curry has called me back to the Times anyway." She went back to her room and laid up against the pillows.

She picked up the book again and began to read. It would be a lot different going back to her regular job; getting up before dawn and becoming the caffeineacholic that she always was since she became the best journalist for them. Maybe this time she would get some descent sleep. At least she would have a descent enough story to make up for the one she literally failed upon. Hopefully the story itself will bring a fortune back home.


End file.
